Pretzels and coke
by darkness173
Summary: Tumblr ficlet 2: Non-sibling AU in which Sam and Dean have known each other since early childhood, as their fathers, John Winchester and Bobby Singer, occasionally go on hunts together.


**Check out the original post on tumblr which contains a photoset. Username is reflections173, /post/125283915073/non-sibling-au-in-which-sam-and-dean-have-known**

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 **Non-sibling AU in which Sam and Dean have known each other since early childhood, as their fathers, John Winchester and Bobby Singer, occasionally go on hunts together. The hunters leave their kids in safety and one another's company on those occasions. This time, it's been almost two years since Sam Winchester and Dean Singer last saw each other. They get to spend a fortnight in a cabin in the woods, while their fathers hunt a mysterious creature which has been causing gruesome deaths in the area. The two teenagers, driven by puberty and their fondness for one another, explore and discover each other in completely new ways.**

"Do you ever wonder what your life would've been like if your dad hadn't been a hunter?" Sam asks, absentmindedly gazing at the screen of the small TV in front of the shabby couch they're sitting on. He takes a sip of his water and glances over at Dean, just in time to see him throw a handful of pretzels into his mouth and crunch on them open-mouthed. "You're gross," he mutters, but secretly can't help finding everything about Dean endearing, even the less flattering aspects of him like his terrible table manners. His cheeks heat up at the thought and he hopes the other teenager doesn't notice.

"Oh, c'mon – lighten up," Dean replies, grinning and with his mouth still full, then takes a sip of his coke to wash down the pretzels. When he turns around to better face Sam, he's more serious. "Of course I do. But what's the point? This is my life. Soon I'm gonna be hunting, just like my dad. Saving people, you know? It wouldn't feel right to just sit back and do nothing, knowing what's out there."

Sam stares at the Singer with surprise and admiration, having not expected him to be so at peace with the idea of living as a hunter, and wishing he could accept that kind of life as easily as him. But on the other hand, his idea of being a hunter is probably different from Sam's. The Singers have an actual home, where they reside most of the time, and even though Dean has always been home-schooled, he has had friends throughout his childhood. Bobby works on cars when he's not doing anything related to the supernatural, so in a way he has a normal job which he has been teaching his son, too, besides hunting. Sam lowers his head, sadness and a little envy washing over him. He never had any of that in his life.

"But why does it have to be us? Why does it have to be us, sacrificing everything, risking our lives to fight the evil?" he asks rhetorically. He angrily curls his hands into fists against his thighs and reveals: "I don't wanna be some sort of hero – I want a normal life! I wanna go to college, have a real job, a white-picket-fence house with a dog or something! I don't wanna be a freak forever." The more he talks, the sadder and angrier he gets. Sam thinks about the constant moving around, living mostly on the road or in low class motel rooms. He thinks about the numerous changes of school, the few friends he ever made and had to leave behind each time. He never had anything and anyone. Well, except for the Impala and his dad, of course. And Dean, he realizes, a little taken aback. The Singers had been one of the few constants in his life and he had never even considered it before. He looks up and at the other teenager from a new point of view – with even more appreciation than usual – and notices only now, the way Dean is looking at him. He looks saddened and jittery, like he doesn't like seeing Sam upset like that and has the urge to make him feel better.

"You're not a freak," Dean reprimands and is hesitant as he reaches towards the Winchester's hand closest to him. He glances at it, then at its owner, and when no immediate reaction comes, he finally takes it in his own hand. Sam just observes, his heartrate gradually picking up. What is Dean doing…? Does he…? Their eyes meet sheepishly for a second, before focusing on anything else but each other. "You're not a freak. You're awesome: smart as hell, with a mean right hook, funny and really… really cute, too. You'd make a great hunter with your intelligence and fighting skills… dad says so all the time – says I should learn a couple things from you." Dean takes a short break in his speech to shakily breathe in and then out. He interlocks their fingers and starts gently brushing his thumb over Sam's. "We could hunt together, you know? Travel across the states, see new places and meet new people. And in the meantime, do some good, too…" The motions of the thumb caressing the Winchester's hand falter. "If you really wanna have a normal life, away from the supernatural though… well, then you deserve to have one. You deserve to be happy, Sammy."

It's silent for a long time during which Sam tries to process Dean really did do and say all of the things he just did and said. His heart is beating so fast he feels a little dizzy and can't keep his hands from shaking a little. He's sure the other teenager must be feeling it, but doesn't really care right then. He knows the Singer feels the same way he himself feels about him now, after all. He's embarrassingly happy and excited, but also a little afraid since he has never experienced a similar situation before. He could have never guessed the first time he would, was going to be with his friend. He swallows to moisten his dry throat and tries to articulate a sensible reply, despite his racing thoughts and feelings: "My dad would never let me leave. Each time I even mention something about wanting to have a normal life we get into a fight and don't talk for the rest of the day. To leave, I'd have to run away… and then dad really would never talk to me again. I'd be completely alone. I dunno if I can handle it all on my o-"

"You wouldn't be alone!" Dean hastily cuts in. His hold on Sam's hand tightens and they both look up at the same time, meeting each other's gaze. This time, neither of them averts their eyes. "I'd… I'd come with you. If you really decide to go away and leave everything behind someday, I'll come with you," the Singer promises, his voice getting softer towards the end of the sentence. His cheeks redden and Sam feels his face heat up, as well. He doesn't know what to reply, so he doesn't say anything, and all they do, is stare at each other. At some point, Dean licks his lips and the Winchester's gaze shifts from his emerald green eyes to his moist, pink mouth instead, and he can't help but lick his own lips, too. He pulls all of his courage together and slowly leans closer to the other teenager and is a little relieved when Dean meets him halfway. And then, their lips are pressing gently, oh so gently against each other's. Sam's heart is pounding – trying to break out if his ribcage, his breath is stuttering, his head spinning. He's sure if they hadn't been sitting, his legs would be giving out under him. His free hand slowly, shakily, comes up to bury itself in Dean's short hair. He pulls him closer, until their young and still slim bodies are pressed fully against each other. Dean gasps into his mouth, hesitantly raises his free hand, too, ends up cupping Sam's cheek.

They kiss: carefully brushing their lips against each other, testing out all the ways they can fit together. Sam wishes this moment could last forever, but pulls back first, mostly because he feels like he's about to pass out. Their faces remain close though, foreheads resting against each other, and their soft pants mix up between them. The Winchester just tries to calm down for a while, then licks his lips, hoping to taste Dean on them. He tastes pretzels and coke and, delirious as he is, can't help but giggle a little.

"What?" the other teen asks, slightly pulling back.

"Nothing," is the reply. "You totally taste like pretzels."

Dean chuckles, too. "Well, pretzels taste awesome."

They grin at each other. Then, out of the blue, it hits Sam. His face falls, becomes serious. He stares at the Singer, gently cards his fingers through his hair. Dean notices the change, starts looking confused and even a little worried. Sam reassures him with a smile and answers the unspoken question: "It's just… I don't care where I end up in life – hunting, or in college, whatever… As long as it can be like this… the both of us like this… then I think I'd be happy anywhere."


End file.
